By: Amelia-Rose Williams
As the approach of my 20s grows hauntingly closer, I feel a range of emotions. The fear of becoming older isn’t what bothers me the most; it’s mainly the fear of if I am doing what is meant for me. My whole life, I’ve struggled to find a community where I truly belong and thrive.Â
I’ve always hopped from friend group to friend group, shown interest in a variety of things and found myself down rabbit holes that lead to various unresolved conflicts that I discuss at great length with my closest friends. I’m an assortment of mysterious-looking delicacies waiting to be tried, and once I have been, the complexity of the taste is incomprehensible.Â
Maybe it’s the motherly gene in me that feels as though I need to take care of everyone in my life. Completely ignoring and neglecting my own needs while prioritizing the happiness of others. When I stared down into the tunnel of adulthood, I made the decision I thought was expected of me.
I applied to a college and pursued a degree for a career that pays well. If you were to tell kindergarten me that I’m working to become a lawyer, she wouldn’t believe you. My passion has always been the arts, more importantly, fashion. While that dream was my everything as a kindergartener, that dream soon became fickle as I got older.
You realize how much dedication these passions truly take. How much time, talent and perseverance it takes; I’m a perfectionist, I believe that if I’m not perfect at something straight away, I may as well give up. And because I wasn’t the best at drawing when I was younger, and my cousin, who I am still close with to this day, was, I thought I was helpless.Â
I threw away my passion for a career and focused on building myself and my image more. I still love fashion and dedicate all my time and energy to it, but I fear that if I were to pursue it, I wouldn’t amount to anything. We are often told to dream big, but the older we get, we are told to be more realistic.
I implemented this mindset a lot throughout the later years of my adolescence, which led me down a path of various activities but no commitments, and the foreboding question of, “Am I truly happy?” I continue to find that answer, and while I do, hopefully, the answer to the question, how much of my ambition is truly mine?